


When Johnny met Taylor

by Rageycakes



Category: Cassandra Palmer Series - Karen Chance
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 13:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12321855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rageycakes/pseuds/Rageycakes
Summary: She'd moved in a week ago, and already John couldn't stand her.





	When Johnny met Taylor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This was originally posted to tumblr as a fic prompt (casskin + new neightbors) but I've made some small edits and reposted it here.

She’d moved in a week ago, and already John couldn’t stand her.

Okay, so he didn’t know for sure that she was a woman, as he hadn’t actually seen her yet, but he felt pretty safe in the assumption, especially given her penchant for blasting Katy Perry for the entire apartment building to suffer.

John gritted his teeth and white-knuckled the handle of his third cup of coffee that evening, as that interminable song started again.

Didn’t she realize how thin the walls were? Every evening for the past week he’d been subjected to that horrible music, interspersed with loud cooking noises, feet stomping (was she _jumping_ in there?) and off-key renditions of the aforementioned horrible music while she showered. She even _showered_ loudly! 

Although, he was loath to admit, the singing had been quite endearing.

John caught the beginnings of a small grin reflected in his toaster and immediately frowned at himself. She wasn’t endearing, she was obnoxious. And inconsiderate of her neighbors. And he was going to confront her about it soon.

John had it all planned out. He’d prepared an inventory of her various transgressions, written in his angry scrawl, and he would march it straight over to her apartment. He’d pound on the door, full of righteous indignation, and when she pulled it open he’d give her a piece of his mind. She’d shape up and become a better neighbor, or he’d complain to the building manager!

Something that sounded suspiciously like Taylor Swift started playing next door, and John slammed his now-empty coffee cup down on the counter. That was it. He drew the line at Taylor Swift. He had to confront her _now._

Her door flew open at his insistent pounding, and there she was.

Diminutive in size, with a mop of messy blonde curls framing her face, she was everything and nothing like he’d expected. John made an effort to push down the fierce, immediately pull of attraction he felt. He’d been around pretty women before, for fuck’s sake. Pretty didn’t get you a free pass on manners.

“Um…hi?” She blinked arrestingly blue eyes up at him expectantly.

Oh, right. He was supposed to be telling her off. He cleared his throat and looked down at her shirt while he attempted to gather his thoughts. It was white, with a pink sprinkled donut on it. The words ‘donut worry’ were written in sparkly blue letters. Ridiculous, he thought and pulled his eyes away before he became distracted by what lay beneath the shirt. He felt a blush begin to creep up his neck and flush his cheeks.

“Is my music too loud? It’s too loud, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I just get nervous being in a new place by myself. The music gives me the illusion of company. But I’ll keep it down!” She smiled, a little impatiently now, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. He needed to say something before she thought he was completely mad.

“I hate Taylor Swift!” John blurted suddenly. Perfect.

The girl blinked once, twice, and then narrowed her eyes.

“What, like Johnny Cash is the end all? You know, just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s better than everything else.”

“How do you-“

“The walls are thin for me, too, by the way. Do you have to work out so early in the morning? And what’s with all the cussing at inanimate objects? It’s kind of weird.” She had her hands on her hips now, eyebrows raised, mouth set in a firm line.

John felt a smile spread across his face and stretched a hand out to her.

“I’m John. Pritkin.”

She stared at his hand for the space of a few blinks, and her lips quirked. She fit her hand in his. It was soft, and warm.

“Cassie.”


End file.
